


How many drugs have you done today?

by jackreads429



Series: Itachi and his demise. [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Oklahoma, Romance, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28761039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackreads429/pseuds/jackreads429
Summary: This story is for my friend and his fucked up head because whu not.First story btw!!!!
Series: Itachi and his demise. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108664
Kudos: 1





	1. Microwaved heart(s)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edenswarrior8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenswarrior8/gifts).



> This story is for my friend and his fucked up head because whu not.
> 
> First story btw!!!!

March 12th 2025 - London, England - 4:47 PM.

Itachi stared blankly at the colour changing bulb in the power button of his computer. Hoping that maybe, just maybe his constant dissociation with his current surroundings would rip him from them entirely. But his fixated gaze was averted because of that tell tale sound abruptly being vomited out of his speakers, signalling a Discord notification. His eyes sluggishly panned towards his monitor, body still directed towards the PC. He tapped the left mouse button frustrated by this sudden distraction from his activity. But was greeted by his girlfriends DM page on Discord making him happier or... at least something positive. Her profile picture displayed her perfection, cute short shoulders, very small chin(too small?) black, long and flowing hair but never, never covering her beautiful freckled face, small petite nose, large rhythmic eyes that hypnotize you complimented by large brown tinted pupils, and a smile which lays lazily across her face with ease. Her Discord username shines vibrant pixels at him "essy". He shivered in delight at human contact that wont disappoint him finally. He reads the message slowly savouring every character, "hey bunnie! just got off work how are you doing". He smiled like a child on Christmas, his gift this woman. That child like glee wore off quickly though, he had to answer..... Truthfully and he doesent like the truth. The keys suddenly feel worn and cold to the press. Resisting the keyboards temptation was getting increasingly more difficult as the time between her messages appearance and his lack of response ticked by. He replied "Hey cinnamon! Great" He lied "just chilling" he lied once more. "you?" he enquired. She responded within seconds clearly eager "Fine! just eating lunch!" He imagined it her lips. He stopped his brain from continuing and dulled it with another swig of joy(Jameson whiskey)


	2. Green glow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi let's out some anger.

April 4th 2025 - 3:17 AM - Itachi's home, London, England.

Itachi had a ritual... Not a good one.

Itachi had his headphones turned down low, maybe 17%?. Just listening to his unbearably long playlist of tunes and beats providing even the slightest bit of comfort. The enjoyable but repetitive pitter patter of rain joyfully bounced outside of his comfortably cold house. The green glow of the current songs spotify background reflected off of a sickly face, his face. It highlights his; long greasy dulled and dyed grey hair, his dirty blue eyes, the heavy black bags grabbing on to his eyelids, the twitches in his left eye, caused by excess of sleep, his thin eyebrows, his small well formed nose and his wrinkled and scarred brow. His back hurt, all the time. A constant bang or stab or pop of his spinal column. It was agony. It pained him constantly yet at this moment it always felt personal. Like the evil pain escalated its action when he was trying to relax, and just listen to some music. His lips quivered, preparing to let out that inner anguish. The music faded away, leaving him with himself, his enemy, his captor. A dull sound, his heartbeat, scolded his ears with a painful thudding. He was prepared to let it out. He let out a horrible yelp of pain hints of bottled up torment reigned in the screech. When it was over he hit pause violently on the song. In consequence from turning off his monitor he was met with an unforgivable blackened mirage of himself in the reflection. He grabbed the monitors sides and violently throttled it in protest. "Fuck... I..." His barley used voice cracked in his dead silent bedroom. He strided towards his bed falling into it haphazardly. And fell asleep ending the ritual.


End file.
